The Forgiveness of Blood
3 stars (out of 4)
Rated: 14A
The ancient Albanian custom of Kanun comes to western view for a second time in recent months, once from Jennifer Baichwal’s Canadian movie Payback, and now from Albania itself.
Reconciliation is an elusive virtue in The Forgiveness of Blood, a heartbreaking Albanian film that counts the toll a family feud takes on all involved.
It’s a coming-of-age story, beautifully acted, that unfolds like a dark tale from the Brothers Grimm, as ancient customs and modern aspirations collide.
Old and new coexist peacefully in the tiny farming community where teens Nik (Tristan Halilaj) and his sister Rudina (Sindi Lacej) live with their hardscrabble family.
Horse-drawn tractors pulling hay share the road with youth on motor scooters. Everybody knows everybody else, and they all live close by, but people still make use of cell phones and text messages.
Nik and Rudina look to the future. Outgoing Nick is in love with a local girl he hopes to marry; reserved Rudina has ambitions that her “A” grades at school will take her somewhere, anywhere.
Their brusque father Mark (Refet Abazi), a baker, is more down to earth and also considerably less carefree. He travels through town by horse and cart, delivering his freshly baked loaves of bread.
His route takes him across contested property: farmland that once belonged to his grandfather, but that now is claimed by his cousin Sokol (Veton Osmani), who wants to deny public access. Mark’s grandfather may have been an easygoing guy, Sokol says, but times have changed.
Argument escalates to tragedy and suddenly Mark is in hiding, fearing for his life at the hands of the authorities and/or Sokol’s vengeful relations.
Mark’s family is in more immediate jeopardy. Under the eye-for-an-eye provisions of ancient Albanian law called Kanun, members of a grieving unit can exact a “blood debt” by killing a male member of an opposing family. Nik is forced into a form of house arrest, keeping him from the girl he loves. Rudina, meanwhile, has to abandon her studies to take over her father’s bakery route.
The arcane Kanun law allows her to leave the house because she’s a woman, but that also means she’s not taken seriously by her patriarchal society. “Women’s opinions don’t count,” a female elder says.
Even so, shy Rudina learns to stand up for herself. She refuses to allow men to bully her as she does her rounds and sells family assets, raising funds needed to pay for a lawyer to represent her father. The blood feud will not end easily, and perhaps not at all.
As he did with his stirring debut Maria Full of Grace, director and co-writer Joshua Marston maintains a deliberate pace as he outlines all aspects of a dilemma, and ponders possible resolutions.
Like Iran’s Asghar Farhadi (A Separation) and Turkey’s Nuri Bilge Ceylan (Three Monkeys), he insists that we consider opposing views, and take note of the fact that truth is every bit as elusive as reconciliation.
Marston’s use of non-professional actors is another aspect of his careful design, and his two young leads are simply inspired casting.
“The Kanun respects he who forgives more than he who kills,” a mediator says, but the ears around him are deaf to this wisdom.
And while tiny humans feud over ancient rules and disagreements, eternal mountains surround them in silent rebuke.
Peter Howell is a syndicated movie critic for the Toronto Star.